Now he's found me. I am such a complex variety of emotions this morning.
I woke up happy, energized. Probably having something to do with the online poker tournament I won last night and the 2 play dates I have set up for the Flea.
This morning, sadness hit. Right before coffee, seeing the pile of work that needs to be done, and remembering a conversation from last night. Full of emptyness, avoidance, misery, longing... a whole Pandora's Box worth of nasty buggies plaguing the world.
Now, rage. A wave just hit, hard. I don't even have a reason for it. I just want to smash, hurt, break, scream. I want to feel that satisfying crunch of my fist flying through something, breaking it, disfiguring it. I want to hear the snaps, clangs, and shattering of broken materials. I want to look around and see a path of wanton destruction cause by my own hands and feet, done for no other reason than because I WANTED to.
As I type this, it is beginning to settle.
By tonight, I know I will be fine. I will be in a car with lolitasir and badfaggot, headed north to see many more friends. I will be calmed and rejunevated by their company. My play partners have nothing to fear.
In scenes, I can tap that rage energy and harness it, control it. Create my own mini-field of rage and chaos that flows and ebbs with mere extentions of my fingertips. I live for that controlled chaos.
But when the rage hits. When the animal, the beast lets itself out and wants nothing more than flesh and blood... frightening.